


Heir Apparent Indigo Epilogue

by BlackenedThorne (BlueThorne)



Series: Heir Apparent [5]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:23:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueThorne/pseuds/BlackenedThorne
Summary: Sparda wishes his son would take some time off from work. Vergil wishes his father wouldn't throw unnecessary parties.They'll work things out somehow.An alternate pairing epilogue for Heir Apparent. Helps to have read the main fic first, but not required.





	Heir Apparent Indigo Epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> This was a present for my good pal Zia's birthday. I write some of the most vanilla smut considering it's also incest haha. 
> 
> It always bothered me a bit that I never got around to cleaning up the plot thread regarding Sparda and Vergil's sour relationship, so I guess them fucking helps clear that up.

Father loved any excuse for a party. “We’re already behind on our work,” I said, more as a reminder than an argument. Nothing would dissuade him from this. I already knew that much. 

He paced ahead around the desk, his steps light as if he were already at his proposed dance. “But we’ve been at peace for a year! It’s a perfect chance to celebrate. We can invite Credo and Nero too, so Dante will be able to come home for a while.” 

“Just go to one of Fortuna’s festivals if you miss them so much. I’m sure they’ll all be in attendance. One year of peace isn’t impressive after all the years we were at war. And if we’re to stay at peace, we must focus on these talks with our neighbors to the west.” I tossed my hand out over the papers in front of me. Father couldn’t have chosen a worse place to settle. All the lands around us craved war like slobbering hounds tugging against their chains. 

His eyes softened with his smile, and he reached up to run his fingers back through my hair. His touch was so soft that I struggled against the shiver racing down my spine. My eyes shut of their own accord. 

“You work so hard for us, Son. We all appreciate how much you do, but you must allow yourself to rest at times. You are allowed to have fun, you know. I would be happy to go to one of Fortuna’s festivals, but only if you were to join me there.”

Opening my eyes, I ducked away from his hand. “I’m busy, Father. Work comes first. I cannot leave on some extended trip because of your fanciful whims.”

Like he’d won some game, his smile brightened to a grin. “Then we’ll simply have the festival here so you don’t need to go on a trip.”

As expected, we’d ended up back at his original idea. My points had changed nothing, and he set to work - at least, his version of work - on organizing Capulet’s version of one of Fortuna’s festivals. I tried to avoid him during that time, hoping he might get the hint that I wanted no involvement in the event. I especially did not wish to attend. Regardless of the state of my workload, I saw no appeal in the suffocating bustle of a crowd like my father. 

The quiet, alone, was preferable. There, I didn’t have to put on the act of the perfect, proper prince. I could relax, even in work. I could be myself for once. 

“Oh, there you are, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Father said as he dropped down into the chair across from mine. Even my library wasn’t a safe hiding place anymore. My attempt to look more focused on my book did not concern him. “Since we’ve been having so much trouble with those boys from- What do they call that land now? Limbo? Well, I decided we should invite them to our festival so we can improve relations with them. Nothing makes allies quite like showing them a good time and giving them gifts.”

I shut my book with a snap. “Father, that is a terrible idea. We’re barely on good enough terms with them to send written correspondence back and forth. They would never accept such a crude invitation to some rowdy party in a land they’re so keen to war with.”

“You think? They said yes.”

My back shot straight, my shoulders so taut that they shook. Months of negotiations were going to go up in flames in one night of drunken revelry because nothing good had ever come from my brother and father in the same place as any foreign diplomat. 

I could not allow that to happen.

With no other choice in the matter, I found myself the most dressed-up person in a castle courtyard filled to the brim with people. The gates were open, and more festivities spilled outside. Booths and stages were set up with little thought to organization. Nothing separated the commoners from those with status, as Father had always preferred things that way. Our visitors must have looked down on us for such a practice. That was, if they had actually appeared. I had seen no hint of their arrival, no carriages among the many wagons and loners on horseback. 

I may have gotten myself worked up over nothing. In fact, I wouldn’t have put it past my father to lie. 

I stayed away from the majority of the chaos, shadowed under one of the castle walls. Few approached me. Fewer still recognized me as the prince despite my appearance and dress. Nero, sporting one of his white uniforms with a wine stain down the front, was the first to greet me properly. “Vergil,” he snapped. “Where is your brother?”

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Bastard is hiding somewhere. He’s dead when I find him.”

Dante did appear not long after Nero darted back into the crowd. “Been a while, Verge!” he greeted, dragging me into a crushing hug. I decided not to ram Yamato through his skull for it. Truly, we hadn’t seen each other in a while. And Nero would probably kill him for me by the end of the night. “I’d love to dance with you,” he continued, “ but I’m, uh- I have somewhere to be. Hey, if you see Nero, tell him I’m inside, okay?”

“Certainly.”

I was left alone again for some time, leaning against the cool stone and listening to the band Father had gathered. People must have been dancing somewhere in that crowd, but the music drifted to me from somewhere that seemed far off. Everything about the festival seemed far off, even what was right in front of me. 

If our estranged royals had not arrived, I saw no reason to stay. I had work to do. Following the wall, I headed for the nearest door back into the castle. 

The castle halls were so empty that the sound of the door opening echoed on and on. I left it to fall closed at my back, but the answering echos didn’t come. A hand caught my wrist. Just as I grabbed Yamato, I felt Father’s steady presence at my back. “There you are,” he said. He sounded troubled, but that couldn’t have been right. Turning, I found his brows furrowed and his eyes searching my face for something. “I couldn’t find you. I was starting to think you weren’t attending.”

“I attended.” My eyes fell to their corners against his questioning gaze. I didn’t want him to find his answers. I just wanted to get back to work. All of this would be over soon, and then things would go back to normal.

“Did you have any fun?” He must have already known the answer. The soft disappointment in his voice wrenched into my heart like a crossbow bolt. 

“It’s not my sort of event, Father.”

“I’m sorry. I should have known better.” The band struck up another song that played in muffled tones against the door. Father’s hand took hold of my chin, the gentle touch of his silk glove turning me to look him in the eye once again. “I wanted you to enjoy yourself. You always seem so stressed. You’re always working so hard.”

“Too many strangers,” I admitted in a whisper. “I would prefer to be alone.”

“May I be alone with you?” he asked. His hand slipped down from my chin, held out in front of me instead. “I would love to have this dance with you, Son.”

It was just the two of us in the open hall, an odd place to dance, yet I didn’t need to consider whether to accept. My hand appeared in his, and he raised it to his lips. Being around him was different than being around anyone else somehow. His presence was always comforting. Even when he was causing trouble, and he often was, I always had a sense that things would be alright as long as he was nearby. 

My face warmed as he brushed a kiss to the backs of my fingers. His attention was on me, only me. His eyes held absolute adoration that made my heart race in my ears, and I finally understood that he’d done all of this for me. All of those endless hours of work he’d spent putting this silly festival together had been for me. Why, I couldn’t imagine. I’d shown no gratitude, no interest. Perhaps his attempt was misguided, but as I fell into step with him to the routine of the simple peasant dance, I felt a smile on my face. 

“This is fun,” I offered. “I think I prefer having you to myself. All those people out there, yet you’d come to me. Though I must admit, I’m not sure why. I’d think I’m awfully boring in comparison.”

“My love, I would trade hours with them for even one moment with you.”

The line was so corny that I wanted to step on his foot, but my face betrayed me, burning so hot that I must have been more flushed than a drunkard. “You don’t mean that,” I muttered, ducking back from his loving gaze.

“I do. You are my prince. You are everything to me.”

“Dante’s out there too.” My arguments were fading to grumbles pressed into my shoulder. Only the gentle insistence of his tugging hands kept me dancing.

“Is he? I never saw him either. Well, it’s true the two of you are both equally important to me, but I think Dante understands that, and I think you may still resent me for when I failed you years ago. Not a day goes by that I do not agonize over that. I would do anything to regain your trust, your love. I know I don’t deserve it, so being able to be in your presence is enough. It’s enough just to be able to hold your hand.” His fingers, threaded together with mine, tightened their grip for an instant. 

How long I’d misunderstood him. The thought of him blaming himself was more painful than I thought it would be. I used to think I wanted that, that I wanted his remorse, but that was too much for him to bear. As the music continued on, I halted my steps, pressed up to my toes and kissed him. He breathed a sharp inhale as his hand came to rest against my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. When I pulled back, I leaned into his touch with a sigh. He appeared stunned, but I could see hope brimming in his eyes.

“You have my trust, Father. No one has it more. And you have my love.” I placed my hand over his, soaking in the warmth of his touch. “No one has it more. I’m… I’m sorry I’ve failed to see how you agonized over this. I suppose I’ve been… difficult.” My brows twitched. “Talking over my feelings is, ah, not a skill of mine, I guess. I don’t really-”

Father led the kiss this time, so soft and warm that I shivered as he pulled back. “You’ve said everything I could dream to hear.” His breath traced along my lips as he moved to kiss my jaw. “But never apologize to me. Never.” 

His trailing kisses reached the collar of my coat, and my breaths began to feel heavy. I wanted… needed something. “The study,” I murmured. “We should go to the study. Work… I have work.”

His tongue traced his lips. “So you do. Let me help you.”

As soon as the study door shut, he had me shoved against it, his mouth melded with mine. I moaned into the kiss, such a filthy sound. I would have hated myself for making it, but Father gave an inhuman purr in return that made his chest rumble against mine. He must have gotten a thrill from dragging sounds out of me, and I was content to give him what he wanted. A gasp tore from me as his leg pressed up between mine. The pressure gave way to pleasure, and I dragged my fingers down the thick fabric at his back. 

Our clothes were in the way. 

Father must have thought the same because he made quick work of slipping my cravat free of my neck and tugging open my vest. Once my neck was free to open air, I felt his tongue against it. His teeth scraped tempting hints of bites near my throat. “Father, please.” My voice was so weak. I’d fallen to begging, and I felt no shame because it was him. My king. I would have happily grovelled in front of him. 

“Vergil,” that demonic purr rumbled in return, and I had to bite my lip to hold back another moan as his teeth sank into the crook of my neck. The pain was intoxicating, my mind racing with the knowledge that he’d marked me. I belonged to him now. Some last shred of reason told me I was giving over to my foolish demonic instincts, and I was all too happy to do so. 

I ground myself against his leg like a dog in heat. “Father, I need you.” If I had let go of my grip on him, I would have fallen. He was everything in that moment, all I knew. 

“What do you need, Son?”

“I need you inside me.”

His entire body shuddered in response, an approving purr rumbling in his chest. I could forget how strong he was at times. He reminded me by picking me up with ease under my thighs and carrying me to the desk. Dropping down into his chair, he sat with me in his lap. His eyes held such lust, yet I could still see affection within their depths. His thumb traced my lips. 

“Would you be a good boy and get on your knees for me?”

“Yes.” My breathing staggered as I began to pant. “Yes, please.” Stepping down to the floor, I knelt down between his legs, my hands kneading his thighs in anticipation. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed at the sight of me there. “So perfect.” 

No, he was perfect. As he freed his cock from his pants, I licked my lips and knew it to be true. Taking the head in my mouth, I truly tasted him for the first time. He hissed a strained “fuck” that left me in bliss. I was the one making him come undone. Only I could see him in such a state. 

His fingers traced back through my hair as I licked the shaft. He never grabbed me, just pet me with gentle affection. When he did direct me, it was a soft touch beneath my chin, tilting my head back to look up at him. “I could come just seeing you like this,” he said, his chest heaving. “But I can’t until I give you everything you’ve asked for. Could you bend over the desk for me?”

“Yes,” I more breathed than said. My legs trembled under me as I tried to stand, so I was glad to have the desk for support. Father removed my belt for me and tugged my pants down over my hips. Over my shoulder, I could see him looking over me like a work of art. “Perfect,” he said again. 

He’d seen others before me, of course. Many others, I assumed. But I felt certain I was the only one he called perfect.

He pulled a vial of oil from a desk drawer. “Is that always there?” I asked, brows raised in suspicion. 

He laughed in a way that made my hips writhe for a moment. After covering his fingers in the slick liquid, he leaned himself over me. “You don’t know how many times I would dream of this,” he said, so close to my ear that the words buzzed along my skin. “Sometimes my mind would wander, and my hand would too.” 

I gasped as his fingers pressed into my ass. The warm feeling inside me and knowing that it was him made me collapse my cheek to the desk’s surface. 

“But dreams really have nothing on reality,” he said. 

I couldn’t suppress a needy whimper with his fingers moving inside of me. “Father, if you don’t stop teasing me and get on with it, I’m going to turn things around.”

“You say it like I wouldn’t love that.” He placed a soft bite to the top of my ear before whispering, “Next time.”

His fingers slipped out, leaving me empty and wanting for an agonizing moment before I felt the hot head of his cock take their place. He was slow, surely only for my benefit, but even the pain burned as sweet pleasure in my gut. When he spoke, his voice was thin with strain. “Are you alright, love?”

“Yes.” I stretched my arms out in front of me like a contented cat to grip the other side of the desk. He was inside me, fully inside me. The thought was every bit as maddening as it was thrilling. I felt so full, so hot. It seemed unbearable, and yet it wasn’t enough. “Fuck me.”

A growl tore from his chest, and his hands gripped my hips so hard that I hoped bruises left of his fingerprints would last. His thrusts set a brutal, perfect pace that shook the desk under us. I lost any control of my voice in an instant, gasps and moans melding as I gave up all sense of myself beyond the pleasure of my connection with him. 

I felt myself begging for more, a line of drool running from the corner of my mouth, and I could hear him praising me in an endless haze. “You’re so good, so perfect, Vergil. I love you. I love you. I can’t- Can’t- Let me come inside you, please.”

“Yes!” I begged. “Please give it to me.”

He gave in with a staggered cry, burying his face in the crook of my neck as an impossible warmth filed me. It sent me tumbling over the edge with him into such bliss that I felt dazed until I found myself in his lap again, cradled like a child as he sat back in his seat. His hand had returned to my cheek, his thumb brushing against it. “You are perfect, my love,” he said, and his eyes were so genuine that I couldn’t imagine arguing. 

“As are you, my king.”

**Author's Note:**

> The reboot boys did go to the party, by the way. They just rode in on horseback and don't look the part of princes. But they had a good time, I think.


End file.
